The Fourth Man
by Mynerva
Summary: The latest job is especially hard for one member of the team in particular, both physically and morally and Face feels utterly alone. Can he overcome these barriers and save the innocent people suffering at the hands of an unruly militia and their crazed leader? NO PAIRINGS. RATED T FOR VIOLENCE. BIG THANK YOU TO nomdeplume FOR BETA :)
1. Chapter 1

The jungles of South America, like the ones in Vietnam, did not appeal to the man currently trekking his way through the densely packed trees and thick vegetation, which grew in every possible direction. If it wasn't the vines that hung down, it was the roots sticking up, and Face had tripped for the last damn time. It was hot and humid and that did little to improve the lieutenant's mood as he finally collapsed to sit, dropping the heavy pack at his feet.

Right away he felt relief on so many different levels. His back no longer ached, and his shoulders and neck felt much better from having the load removed, though the skin where it was exposed through the very basic vest he wore was chaffed quite badly. Despite the warmth of the place, Face felt it would be better for him to try and tolerate an extra layer if he was to spare his skin more discomfort and irritation. The last thing he needed out here was an infection from something as simple as broken skin. His legs seemed the happiest part of him now he was seated. They'd carried not only the pack but the man himself through miles of the jungle and up a gradual incline. They'd earned the rest.

His feet felt relatively good, and he mentally patted his back for having the hindsight to wear his best hiking boots. They had been expensive (like most of the things he owned) but worth every penny. His mood was dark enough without adding blisters into the equation.

With a sigh the lieutenant grabbed the canteen that was hanging from the pack and took a single glug, swilling the moisture around his mouth before committing to the swallow. He had no time to refill the container with water harvested and purified from the abundant sources around him. He really didn't have time for this little breather, either, but his body was exhausted. One bad fall would see him out of this particular ballgame.

"What's the hold up, Lieutenant?" Face looked up from his musing to the source of the familiar voice, trying to get a glimpse at Hannibal through the trees. It sounded like the older man was ahead of him, and he cursed his luck. If Hannibal had beaten Face to their destination, the younger man would never hear the end of it.

"This is just great…" Face muttered darkly as he screwed the cap back onto the canteen and hoisted the pack back over his right shoulder before starting his journey once again.

The brief respite had done the trick at least. He was taking more care and his legs seemed sure of their stride. The last thing he wanted was to take a fall in front of the team. It was bad enough he seemed to be the last one to arrive, as B.A and Murdock were right there with Hannibal as the colonel looked down at their destination. A small village nestled in the valley below, with homes built from the abundant resources of the jungle. Very basic shelters for a people with a basic lifestyle.

"Well hey there, Facey. Nice of you to join us." Murdock said with a big smile as he openly mocked his 'lil-brother'. They were all dressed in their jungle greens for a job like this, providing not only camouflage but protection from the elements.

Face chose to ignore the comment and dropped his pack to the ground. Feeling pretty miserable, he scaled the final few steps to where Hannibal stood. He'd struggled the entire way and the rest of the team had beaten him to the place and barely broken a sweat. Murdock was just as lively as ever, swinging from a branch and humming some tune, while B.A just glared down at Face like he was deeply disappointed with the lieutenant's performance.

"Yeah, what kept you, Lieutenant?" Hannibal asked, finally lowering the binoculars to look at his soldier.

"Give me a break, Hannibal. It's a hundred degrees out here and that pack's at least a hundred and twenty pounds…"

"You're getting soft, Face. Remind me to double the hours you train." The colonel went back to watching the activity below leaving Face rolling his eyes and he quickly forgot what Hannibal had said.

"Yeah, yeah fine. Is this the place?" Face asked holding his hands out to get a look through the scopes but Hannibal didn't hand them over, leaving the lieutenant feeling like a fool.

"You're gonna have to do some reconnaissance to find out for sure."

"Me!? But I'm exhausted. Can't Murdock go, or B.A? They're nice and fresh." At that B.A snarled in an intimidating manor. Face snapped his mouth shut and took a discreet step away from the big guy, fearing for his life. "Look my head's really ringing too, you know that guy back at the dock hit like a truck… Any relation to you, big guy?" he asked of his muscle-bound team mate who glared back unamused.

"Face, enough of the excuses," Hannibal looked right at the younger man, his eyes hard and almost daring the lieutenant to defy his order again. Face knew better than to do that when Hannibal was in a mood like this. The colonel seldom got so serious, and it left Face wondering what had triggered it.

"Alright," Face conceded with a sigh and back tracked to collect his pack. By the time he hoisted it over his shoulder, the guys had dispersed. "Oh, don't wait up." He grumbled.


	2. Chapter 2

After dropping his pack at what would be base camp until the jobs completion, Face set to work. The jungle was a little thinner the closer he got towards the village, which made navigation easier. It had darkened considerably as the jungle day gave way to a much cooler jungle night, and with the application of a little mud on his arms and face, the lieutenant blended in perfectly.

While he knew he wasn't in Vietnam, Face couldn't help but draw comparisons to what he had done all those years ago to what he found himself doing right now. Stalking the jungle, constantly on the look-out for an almost invisible enemy. He had to shake his thoughts clear so he didn't become bogged down in the grim recollections thinking like that often lead him too. A lot of good men had died; some he counted as friends, and it was still tough to remember even today.

He just had to focus on the job…

The village was eerily quiet with no signs of life. Face was no anthropologist but he guessed that as it got darker out here in the wilderness, that the people who called it their home would return to the shelters to take shelter. But there was nothing and no one. No lights, no fires, no evening meal and no people. It was the unnatural feel of the setting that confirmed to Face at least, they were in the right place.

"Report." Hannibal ordered and Face almost died. He hadn't heard the colonel approach, didn't even realize the older man had followed him down from base camp.

"Geezus! A little warning next time." He hissed, trying to calm his frantically beating heart. Once again he was met with those steel-blue eyes. "I haven't seen any signs of life, no one's been here for a least a week."

"Well that confirms what, Dr. Jackson feared and what he's paying us to put right."

"That these people are being used as slave-labor in a near-by gem mine." Face shook his head disapprovingly. "Even the kids are gone, Hannibal."

"Yeah well, 'Dead Eye' Dean Coleman is a special kind of slime," the colonel sighed and Face frowned.

"You know the guy? You mentioned him on the boat and…"

"Have you located where the mine might be?" Hannibal asked, cutting off the younger man who decided it was best to let it go.

"Yeah, there's a lot of traffic heading out to the east." Face thumbed in the general direction before turning back to study his CO. While Face had taken precautions to camouflage himself, Hannibal hadn't bothered. "Not to criticize, Colonel, but don't you think you should put your make-up on?" He was of course referring to the mud he himself wore, but Hannibal just gave him that self assured grin that often left the lieutenant feeling exasperated.

"They won't see me, you know that."

Face rolled his eyes, there were times he appreciated the older man's confidence, it had gotten them through some pretty tight spots, but there was such a thing as being over-confident.

"Scout out the mine," Hannibal continued. "I want numbers, Lieutenant. If the group we ran into back at the river were just a portion of Coleman's troops, we might be in over our heads."

"And yet, you want me to go scouting…alone?"

"Move out, Face."

Hannibal really was in a bad mood, normally he would have had a witty come back for Face's complaints, but today the colonel didn't have the patience. With a sigh the lieutenant headed back into the deeper cover of the jungle and headed east towards a perilous looking cliff face.

* * *

><p>Luck seemed to on his side as he made it back to base camp without incident yet in possession of the information Hannibal needed. Feeling weary after the hours of stealthy sleuthing, soaked through and cold, Face was simply looking forward to sitting down. But as he entered the small dug out shelter, nestled between the roots of two huge jungle trees, he realized quite miserably that the camp had not yet been prepared.<p>

He'd been gone close to two hours and not one of the others had lifted a finger to unpack the supplies or set up perimeter defenses. There had to be a reason of course. They would never just leave it all to one person. Maybe they were out gathering more intel or supplies.

What ever the reason was, the task couldn't be left unattended. So despite his fatigue, the lieutenant grabbed the pieces of equipment he needed and set about arranging a perimeter defense system, consisting of trip-wires and early warning systems, before focusing on the camp itself. There was no way they could light a fire, it would be spotted easily, but they did have a small hot plate that ran off of an electrical charge good for warming water and small amounts of food. It could be charged via a solar-power panel that B.A had hooked up; the guy really was a genius when it came to electronics.

With base camp up, running and perfectly hidden by a series of nets covered with foliage from the surrounding jungle, Face set a pot of coffee to heat up on the hot plate knowing the guys would appreciate a hot drink when they got back. He was half way through his own helping when he heard a familiar hoot, like an owl. Face knew who it was so he whistled back a response, signaling the all clear. Hannibal stepped under the nets and into the relative dryness of the camp. Face set down the map he had been working on which detailed all of the information he had gathered and, of course, the defenses he had set up.

"I found the mine and got a fairly accurate head-count…"

"Around thirty guys, right?" Hannibal stated as he lowered into a seated position and examined the map Face had unfolded.

"You scouted the place out yourself? Why send me at all if you didn't…"

"Relax, kid. You know it's not because I don't trust your abilities." Hannibal gave the lieutenant a pointed look. Face just shrugged and indicated the areas he had marked on the map. "And you set up perimeter defenses, good."

"I also put base camp together," he added with a hint of annoyance.

"You also know we would have done that, if we had been able to." Hannibal sounded a little annoyed himself leaving the lieutenant wondering what it was he had done to piss off his CO. He was half tempted to ask and get whatever it was out into the open, but after such a long day he wasn't sure he had the energy. He let the unspoken confrontation die in his mind before rubbing the back of his head, wincing when his fingertips brushed against the rather large lump he bore from the brawl earlier that day.

"And I made coffee for everyone," he decided to point that out, too. He didn't want a medal, just some acknowledgment of a job well done. He wasn't going to get it though. "Where are B.A and Murdock anyway?" Face asked instead, before fishing out the bottle of Tylenol from his pocket.

"They're around," Hannibal said as he watched Face chase the pills with a slug of the aforementioned coffee.

"So," Face began when the silence stretched on to uncomfortable levels, something that didn't often happen between the two men. "Have you figured out a plan yet?"

"Vietnam was a good teacher." Hannibal said cryptically.

"We also had a limitless supply of ordinance and man-power for most of your crazy plans. I somehow doubt any of those tactics are going to work out here with our limited supplies and just the four of us." Face shot Hannibal a sincere apologetic smile before glugging down the last of his coffee, but the colonel just gave him a peculiar look back. He'd never seen such a somber expression on the older man, and Face was ashamed to admit that it scared him a little.

"It worked for Charlie."

Face almost choked on his coffee but managed to resist the reaction and instead swallowed back his surprise. "Wait, you want us to use those tactics?"

It was a legitimate question and he had to wonder if Hannibal had briefed the others about this plan. It was hard fighting the kind of war they had. They lost friends and good men to an enemy they rarely encountered in open combat, Charlie would hit and run, escaping into the seemingly endless jungles and the safety of sympathetic villages. Deaths and injuries were also chalked up to the traps that were set for their patrols, leaving the American soldiers bitter and angry. The guerrilla tactics were considered cowardly, but all was fair in love and war.

"Like you said, it's not like we have many options out here in our current situation."

"I know, but," Face blew out a nervous breath, "it just feels a little contradictory to resort to the same strategy we openly condemned as a coward's way to fight."

"It's a legitimate battle-plan, one that's been used time and time again throughout history, Lieutenant."

"I know, I know. By the colonists in the Revolutionary War, and before that, the Boer war…" Face closed his eyes briefly before fixing Hannibal with a beseeching gaze. "But using those tactics means taking life. Hit and run, shoot to kill, not injure. Are we really going to break the one vow we all took when we started down this road, not to turn our weapons or our skills on our own people?"

"You need to ask yourself if you're capable of doing that, Face."

The lieutenant sighed and looked down at his hands, which had started to tremble. He had killed before, many times in fact throughout his time in Vietnam. It was a war after all, he wasn't there to make friends or to negotiate or question the orders he was trained to follow. All he did was march, aim and pull the trigger when he had to. Kill or be killed, and he wanted to live too much to be the one eating those bullets.

Setting foot on home soil once again, everything had changed. They were no longer at war. Even as fugitives, all four had taken a vow to serve their country. Being wrongly convicted didn't change that. Whatever manner of men had orchestrated the elaborate set up, or why, didn't matter. They loved their country, and nothing would change that. They continued to serve the land they loved by protecting its people from ones who would strip away their freedoms or threaten their lives and honor the vow that originally bound them. But they would never, ever turn their weapons upon one of their own, not even the military men like Decker who hunted them every day.

Was he capable of breaking that vow now? How far would he have to go, to protect the innocent lives being exploited here? Could he pull the trigger and extinguish a life as easily as he had almost a decade ago?

"Hannibal…" The lieutenant looked up finally after wrestling with his conscience for some time, but the colonel wasn't there. He had obviously slipped out sometime during his musing but Face hadn't heard him move at all, and the little base camp suddenly felt eerily deserted…


	3. Chapter 3

"Up and at 'em, muchacho!" Face's eyes shot wide open as Murdock happily shouted into his ear. The sudden surprise wakeup call was enough to have the lieutenant's heart skip a beat, and for a frightening moment, he wondered if it would ever beat again. The shrillness of the captains voice cut through Face's head, causing it to thump painfully, which was only made worse by the rapidness of his shocked heart as it fought to make up for the previously missed 'ba-dump'.

"Murdock!" Face snapped and moved to shove the eccentric man away, but Murdock was too quick and all the lieutenant managed to do was roll out of his sleeping bag. This was cause enough for the pilot to start giggling, adding insult to injury. "Was that absolutely necessary?"

"Well I tried shaking you awake, but you're a regular Sleeping Beauty. Just count yourself lucky I didn't go with my original idea." Murdock puckered up his lips in a comical kissing motion, leaving Face relieved he had the headache instead.

"What do you want, Murdock?" Face asked as he gathered himself from the muddy ground and attempted to put the little camp back into some order. "Wait, where have you been all night anyway…"

"We gotta get down to the mine. It's almost morning, and Hannibal reckons we'll see some activity from the troops."

"Right…" Face shook his head and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, reaching for his jacket, his cap and rifle. He swallowed back the dread. As soon as he collected the weapon, he felt the weight on his shoulders increase to an amount far greater than the gun itself. "Did Hannibal brief you on the plan?" He asked of Murdock whose demeanor had changed considerably. He was no longer eager to get moving and his once animated standstill was just still. Unusual for Murdock.

"Yeah, he did, Facey." The pilot's eyes fell to the rifle. "It's not much of a choice, is it?"

"It's a choice I wish I didn't have to make," the lieutenant admitted as he grimly counted the number of bullets he had.

"You know," Murdock began as he took a step closer to Face, hands deep in the pockets of his olive green fatigues, "I was always a little jealous of your skill with that thing. I mean, I'm good with most other firearms but that, that thing there is one of the few I couldn't quite tame. Every time I saddled up, she would buck and kick back into my shoulder so hard. Damn near broke it. That and I would miss the target every time. I just don't have the patience to line up that shot and wait for the exact moment to gently squeeze that trigger." Murdock smiled a huge goofy grin before his eyes fell sad once again, but he tried to hold the smile, hoping to instill some amount of comfort into his next words. "Guess I'm being a little selfish when I say, I'm not jealous now, but I know, Face. And I know you know, that I know and I just wanted you, to know that."

Face smiled and shook his head fondly. Murdock was just like the rest of them. Pit him against a couple of dozen guys and he'd come out on top almost every time, unperturbed and ready for more, but try to get him to talk about his feelings? Nope, can't be done. But Face didn't need to hear Murdock talk about feelings he already knew were there.

"Thanks, Murdock. That was really touching." He didn't bother to hide the sarcasm; he knew Murdock would appreciate the change in tone and the attempt to lighten the mood.

"You don't think it was a bit much?"

"Naw." Face shook his head and shouldered the rifle, leading the way out of the camp and into the jungle, Murdock following.

"Are you sure, because I did struggle with it. I thought it might have been too wordy."

"Not at all, Murdock. It was perfect. You said everything, without saying too much." Face rolled his eyes with a smile.

"Good. That's good." The captain nodded before jogging to catch up to his friend. "Hey, Face, you got any gum?"

* * *

><p>The mine was a relatively short hike downhill from where they had set up camp which meant Face and Murdock made good time and where in position before the sun had completely finished its ascent above the horizon. It was still cool, and Face savored the last few hours of relative comfort before the typical jungle humidity returned. He sat himself down amidst the jungle debris, covered once more in camo gear as well as mud and grime. Murdock hadn't bothered with the later part, but he was well hidden enough in the tree top armed with a pair of binoculars. The scope of the rifle was enough for Face to keep watch on the scene below.<p>

The mine was nestled at the lowest point of the shallow valley and, like the village, seemed deserted. The mouth of the mine was wide open, and he could see fresh muddy tracks leading in and out. The scope was powerful enough to be able to follow the direction of those tracks to some partially hidden buildings. These were made from sturdier stuff than the dwellings back at the village, the ugly iron walls and barred windows alien when compared to the setting. Coleman had obviously been planning this little excursion for some time if he had the means and man power to set up this prison camp.

Face guessed the villagers were inside the cells. His assumption was proven correct when one of the guards, either still sleepy or hung over, stumbled across the muddy yard to unlock the doors. Seven more of Coleman's men assisted in ushering out the miserable looking natives, all of who were distinguishable by what they wore- some kind of organic material, woven from whatever had been growing around their home. Their skin was also darker and each head of hair was black and long, longer on the women while the men's had been trimmed to a particular length. The guards wore more recognizable items, the ones that stuck out being the semi-automatic weapons which were enough of a presence to keep the villagers in check.

Once the adults were in the mine, a second cage was opened and out came the smaller versions of their parents. The children, from what Face could tell, looked between the ages of five and twelve, the youngest of the group crying helplessly for their parents. Face felt his blood boil as one of the guards shoved a small girl on towards another building, seeing her stumble and begin to cry. He had to summon every ounce of self control he had not to pull the trigger there and then.

All in all there were about forty villagers trapped, with eight children. While the natives outnumbered the guards, it was the safety of their children than kept them subverted.

"Those scuzzbuckets!" Face heard Murdock curse softly from the tree above, and the lieutenant had to agree.

"There's no way we can go on the plan, not until we get those kids out of there."

"How are we gonna do that?" Murdock asked as he deftly slipped back down to the ground and knelt beside Face who continued to look through the scope.

"Tonight, when they're locked up again, I can slip down there and let them out…"

"That's too risky, Face. I know you can be pretty stealthy when you want to be but, those kids won't know what's going on, they could give away your presence to a passing patrol or..."

"No, they won't. Because there won't be a patrol alive to hear a damn thing." The idea of killing again still filled him with dread, but seeing those kids being treated so badly was far worse than any crisis of conscience. He was a soldier, and while he wanted nothing more than to lead a peaceful life, sometimes to protect peace, peaceful men needed to bear arms.

* * *

><p>It had been a long and lonely watch. Murdock had retreated back to camp at Face's request. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the company, but he needed to prepare. It had been a long time since the lieutenant had been faced with a situation remotely like this, and the one reason he had been able to survive those encounters was the fact he was prepared mentally. He sat all day on that ledge watching the men below, getting to know their patterns and habits. More than one liked to smoke; one other had some issue with pissing in sight of his fellow guards, while a handful more liked to drink. They were hardly a match for the A-Team who were disciplined and professional when on a job. These clowns were nothing more than glorified bullies.<p>

As the sun set and the cool night air started to creep into his bones, the lieutenant watched the activity blow, mentally counting how many children were placed back into the cell. Eight came out that morning and eight were returned, but the older girl was looking decidedly more fatigued than the others, and she walked with a prominent limp. During the entire day Face hadn't seen any of the children come out of the mine, he had to guess they, too, were being made to work.

Not long after the children were secured, the adults were brought out. One by one the weary men and women stepped out into the quickly fading light of day, but something was different about one of them. He didn't wear the native garb and his hair was most definitely not black.

"Hannibal!?" Face almost choked out the name of his CO as he watched the colonel trudge his weary way into the cell. Did he get caught? If he did, it was by design. Even when cornered by Dougie Kyle, drugged and alone, the colonel had far too much class to get caught. Face sighed and lowered the scope of the rifle before running a hand through his damp, muddy hair. Why had Hannibal done this? Was he concerned by Face's level of commitment to the plan? Sure, he hadn't exactly been enthusiastic about blowing out a couple of brains, but at the end of the day he was prepared to do so for the good of the team and these poor people. This revelation, while damn annoying, didn't change anything. Face could still go through with his plan, but with an addition. He had to get Hannibal out of there.


	4. Chapter 4

Under the cover of an almost pitch black sky, Face slipped unseen and unheard into the enemy camp. He'd been watching all day and knew everything he needed to know about his marks.

Most of the guards had settled down to sleep in what seemed to be the main structure located closest to the mine. Seven of them were positioned throughout the rest of the area, patrolling and watching along the edges of the jungle that threatened every day to encroach into the small base.

The jungle itself was alive with its own ambiance, a collection of fauna all regaling nearby ears with their best vocals. Face was used to this sort of orchestra, having been lulled to sleep by similar notes back in the Vietnam jungles. It spooked him at first, but after a couple of weeks he grew to appreciate the sounds, and later he could shut them out completely. Here was no different. After one day and night in the place, Face had heard most of what this jungle had to offer and was no longer bothered. The guards situated around the camp, however, still seemed to be in that adjusting phase, something the lieutenant knew would work in his favor.

By the time Face was in position, his body, which had grown stiff from all the hours of surveillance, finally loosened up making stalking the two men to his left a lot easier. They were patrolling the east side of the camp, just opposite the road that led down to the village, obviously on the lookout for escaping natives. The two men had separated. While one walked along the edges of the jungle in a northerly direction, the second headed south, lighting up a smoke as he slipped into the bushes just a few paces away from the hidden soldier.

Controlling his breathing, Face watched, moving only his eyes as the man ventured two more paces deeper into the jungle. He remained as still as possible, the mud he wore helping him to blend in seamlessly into his surroundings. Face could smell the cheapness of the cigarette and hear the faint mutterings of complaint as the guy unzipped his fly. Before the guard had a chance to whip it out and pee, the lieutenant's knife had slipped in between the third and fourth rib, puncturing the left lung. Even if the man had wanted to scream, he couldn't.

A velvet of warmth spilled out over Face's mud-caked fist. It clung to the handle of the blade while his free hand held up his victim. Face turned to peer across at the second guard and through the hanging vines and branches; Face could just about make him out. He had started to walk back the way he came. With another fluid jab of the knife, this time angled towards the heart, Face extinguished the life of the man currently slipping towards the ground. Lowering the body slowly to the ground meant there was no sudden noise drawing the second guard's attention, while at the same time, the lieutenant dropped with it, slipping back into the cover of the jungle keeping low.

Face had angled his run towards the second guard and waited for the right time to strike. It came as the guard peered into the jungle trying to spot his friend, but all he found was death. Face plunged the already soaked blade into the throat of the man, before dragging the body into the cover of the jungle.

With two down Face had no time to dwell on his recent actions, choosing instead to hide the bodies as best he could and hope that whatever hungry mouths might be lying in wait, would dispose of at least some of the evidence before they were found. He hoped that the remaining guards would simply look on the disappearances as foolishness on the missing men's part, or that they had deserted.

It was a risky plan even before Hannibal got himself caught, as there was only a brief window before the enemy started to question the vanishing of their crew and be on guard, making the lieutenant's job much harder. But it had to be done this way, there were too many to take head on.

He had to take them out like this…

He was just one man after all…

Dizzy.

He wasn't sure why the sudden wave of disorientation came but he was very glad it dispersed just as quickly. He blinked rapidly to clear the lingering effects of the spell, before hurrying deeper into the camp, putting the sudden affliction down to the bump he still bore from the fight the previous day. He didn't want to consider it was something else, like stress. He was very much aware of how debilitating that could be, especially in the field, but it would hardly be a surprise if stress was indeed the cause. After all, here he was again in a jungle, so very far from home, covered with mud and the smell of death all over his hands. He had to push that aside and drive on through it.

It wasn't long before he spotted another of the patrols, this one circling the small iron and concrete cabin that housed the native children. The guy was slacking in his duties, taking a swig from a concealed flask in his sleeve. Whiskey if Face's nose was correct, and it often was. The lieutenant waited for the guy to wander a little closer towards the tree line, before stepping out and covering his victim's mouth, stifling his cry of alarm, while the blade in his other hand sliced through the guards exposed neck. The sounds from the man struggling in Face's arms changed from shrieks of shock to gargles and chokes, as the blood from the artery filled his mouth and lungs. Within seconds the scum had bled out. Like before, Face dragged the body into the cover of the jungle before stealthily going back to the building.

The closest patrol was more than fifty yards away, in the middle of an open area in front of a large camp fire, sat with his back to the children's prison. Two others sauntered around that area making it impossible for Face to approach without being seen.

The lieutenant cursed his luck. He could wait, eventually one might wander close enough to be taken out, but he was on the clock already. He didn't know how much longer he had before the alarm would be raised on account of the guards he had already dispatched. Swallowing thickly, and praying the decision he made was the right one, Face slipped towards the rear of the small building. While the make-shift prison was fairly sturdy, it had been erected in haste, and he doubted a clod like Coleman was bothered about the grade of the concrete used. It didn't take the soldier long to locate a structural weakness in the form of a small hole at one of the corners. He lowered down so he could peer through. Sure enough there were the kids, huddled together for warmth in the far corner.

Being as quiet as possible, the lieutenant tapped the wall lightly, hoping to draw the attention of the oldest girl, who couldn't have been any older than fourteen. His efforts weren't entirely futile but the child who noticed the strange muddy man peering in at them from below was a lot younger than fourteen and clearly frightened. The little boy shrieked in fright and the rest of the bunch sounded out a rhapsody of wails and panicked words in a language Face couldn't understand. He tried to hush them soothingly, but the jig appeared to be up when an angry voice bellowed out from the direction of the camp fire.

"Will you kids shut the fuck up!" Face froze at the gruffly spoken order, which was only a little slurred, confirming that most of the guards were likely drinking, too. The children quieted down, obviously more afraid of their captors than the weirdo peeking in through the hole.

"It's ok, guys," Face soothed but was met with mostly blank looks. "I don't suppose…one of you speaks English?" He asked hopefully, but there was no way he could be that lucky.

"I do." The older girl stood and came closer to the corner, looking down at the muddy man with large, hopeful, brown eyes. "Are you one of them?"

"Do I look like one of them?"

"Yes. Except you wear mud." The girl pointed out calmly, her expression one of mistrust as she regarded the lieutenant contemplatively.

"I'm not one of them, no. I'm here to free you all."

"And our parents?" She asked, as if she knew his answer would be no.

"Eventually," he stated irritably but the girl looked confused. Her English was good, but perhaps she didn't understand all of the words. "I can't do that, not yet," he clarified and taking his knife, he started to dig away at the hole to make it big enough for all of the children to get out from. "I need to get you kids out of here first. Then I can come back for your parents."

"It is dangerous for us to leave this way. Mati tried before and was captured and beaten."

"Well that won't happen this time." The girl looked skeptical at first, but her eyes focused on the knife and the blood that stained it and seemed to understand the lieutenant's unspoken truth. "I can get you away from here," Face continued hoping to draw her attention away from the gore. He wasn't proud of what he had done, but he knew it was necessary. "But I need you guys to be strong and find somewhere to hide."

"The jungle is our home, we know many places to be safe."

"That's good, uh… what's your name?"

"Dr. Jackson called me Helena. My real name is difficult for you to say."

"Did he teach you English, too?"

"Yes," Helena had started to gather the younger children together and kept them as quiet as possible while Face continued to chip away at the wall. There were two teenage boys with her. He assumed she translated the plan to them for as soon as the hole was big enough they were assisting the girl in ushering the youngest children out. Face eased each little boy and girl through, urging them to hide in the cover of the jungle while moving onto the next, the last to leave was Helena. As with the others, Face reached to assist but she slapped his hand away almost aggressively. He tried not to take it to heart, it was clear she had been through a lot.

Helena slipped into the tree line as stealthy as any trained special ops soldier while Face checked on the bozos in the clearing by the fire. One guy seemed to have passed out while the other two played cards in a nearby tent. The building holding the native adults and Hannibal was directly across that clearing. Once he got the kids to safety, he would double back. Hopefully by then the other two would be in a similar state as the first…

Face back tracked towards the kids, but finding them was proving difficult. Each one had smothered themselves in mud, Helena helping the youngest. She regarded the lieutenant with a cautious gaze before going back to her task, and Face finally got a good look at them.

The three youngest consisted of two boys and a girl, no older than five. All looked thin and in shock. They didn't cry, though. It seemed they were beyond that, and all Face wanted to do was tell them everything would be okay. The next two were around eight or nine, girls who huddled close to the three younger ones protectively. Then there were the two teenage boys, around thirteen, and then Helena. They looked to be in the worst shape, with one boy having clearly been beaten. Helena's eyes were tortured, hiding a secret Face didn't want to admit he could see. She wore bruises on her body in places no child would ever accidently inflict. She had been choked and pinned down, the large hand prints around her neck and wrists telling that story. He didn't want to think about the rest.

He was starting to doubt his next move here, but he didn't have a lot of options. The kids didn't look to be in any sort of state to go wandering through the jungle alone after the experience they had, but at the same time it wasn't exactly safe for them to stick around. Face had to set explosives, traps and trip-wires; he would never forgive himself if any of the kids ended up hurt because of the tactics he had to employ.

"What is it?" Helena asked, seeming to read the conflict in his eyes.

"I can't let you guys just wander off out there," he admitted as he scratched the day old, muddy stubble around his jaw.

"We do not 'wander'." Helena chastised making the lieutenant regret using that particular term.

"You know what I mean, kid."

"I am not a child. Not anymore." Her expression was a mixture of resigned misery. Face felt a definite chill run down his back and he clenched his teeth in disgust.

"Helena," he began in a softer tone. "I want to see you all safe and well and back with the people who love you."

"Then hurry and free our parents, and you will see that day."

"So you're all just gonna go and disappear into the jungle?" he snapped back in a hushed voice. "You could be killed!"

"Like I said, the jungle is our home. We know of safe places." Face sighed as he watched the younger ones link hands with Helena at her request. "To stay with you would mean our death, as well as your own." The lieutenant shook his head, he wasn't sure what he disliked more, the hopeless situation or the fact a teenager had basically told him the score.

"All right, Helena." He conceded somberly. "Be careful." The girl nodded before turning to leave. "Watch the sky," he added while they were still in earshot. "You'll know when it's safe to return, by watching the sky." Another nod from the girl before she and the others slipped into the jungle. After mere seconds there was no trace of them.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time the kids had gone and Face returned to the prison camp it was clear by all the activity that at least one of the bodies had been found, making it impossible for the lieutenant to get even close to the second building. It took some careful planning and flawless execution for Face to slip back into the jungle undiscovered. Now seated on the well hidden ridge, looking down at the activity below and still close enough to hear the shouts and angry calls of the men, Face sighed, letting go of a breath he had no idea he had been holding. It was part relief and part dejection. The kids were safe, or at least away from the scumballs. Whether they were safe, alone in the jungle he could only hope, but that was all small comfort when he considered he had failed in the first stage of his mission. Hannibal was still down there and trapped…

Face squeezed his eyes closed, the hand that had been running through his damp, matted hair now pulling angrily at the strands. All he wanted to do was scream, more so now he had slowed down and his mind was free to dwell on the terrible things he had done. Three lives, extinguished like they didn't matter, their blood coating his hands, a grim reminder and he dry retched as the smell of it hit the back of his throat. All at once he was hit by the shock of his situation and it was difficult to get his body back under control. His legs were too weak to hold him up any longer and he dropped to his knees, hunched over still as his stomach attempted to exit via his oesophagus. His trembling hands, weakly held onto anything in a feeble attempt to ground himself as his good-natured soul tried to reject the body that had sinned so perfectly. Those men never stood a chance; Face was Special Forces trained and the fact he had survived Vietnam put him in a class way above those poor bastards. All he wanted to was cry out, but he was still aware of the danger if he done so. He had to remain hidden, he had to remain at large, so he could…

Could he do all that again?

Face sobbed and spit out the remaining bile that had emerged during the, mostly dry heaving before falling back on his arse and continued to watch the scene below. More lights had been put on so the guards could better search the area and Face swallowed thickly as he reached for the rifle. They were making this too easy…

* * *

><p>Eight more dead.<p>

The thought was sobering as Face made his way back into the hidden base camp. He could still see each man fall as first their heads popped; their limbs went limp, before falling to bleed profusely on the ground. Eight more had died before the goons realised they needed to turn off the lights and stay in cover. When the first shots had been fired they had actually tried to storm his position, coming towards him in twos when they realised the direction the sniper was shooting from. Eventually the remaining men were too fearful to leave their cover, and pickings became slim, but it gave Face a chance to double back and lead a false trail before heading back to the sanctuary of the teams base.

He was exhausted and fighting to push the grim memories from his mind. He had to remain focused. Now the enemy knew he was out here…

He?

_They_…

_They_ were out here. Face, Murdock and B.A at least.

Face sat wearily on the little stool, escaping the damp mist of the jungle now he was under the nets, but he was alone once more. He had no idea where Murdock or B.A had gotten too. Maybe they were setting traps? Scouting? Readying weapons? Easy jobs compared to what he just had to do…

Why weren't they helping him?

Face put his aching head in his hands and tried to fight back the anguish of his guilty, broken soul…

"Face," the usual gruff voice of B.A, while not exactly soft, was filled with concern as the big man slipped under the canopy. "What's the matter, man?" It was hard not to find the question insulting and the lieutenant laughed bitterly. Face pressed his thumb and fingers of his right hand into his eyes, to squeeze away the tears that barely had a chance to gather. He might have cried if he had been alone, but there was no way he was going to do that while B.A was there.

"Oh nothing much," he said in his best sarcastic tone, the one he usually avoid using around B.A since the big man often found the lieutenants attitude annoying. "Killed…eleven men today," he tried so hard to keep any emotion from his voice but it still cracked pathetically. "And uh…Hannibal got caught and I don't know if it was part of his plan or if he messed up. I couldn't get to him to find out…"

"But you got the kids out, you got them safe. I'm proud of you, man."

Face lifted to fix B.A with the most hate-filled glare that he could muster.

"You…saw that?"

Silence.

"You were there!?" Face stood, matching B.A height if not his girth, with a white hot fury burning in his tired, haunted blue eyes. "Why the hell didn't you help me!?"

"You know why…"

"No, no I don't! We're a team, we're supposed to work together, but I'm doing everything!"

"You know why, Face. You've just forgotten." Face held his head as it thumped painfully at that moment.

"B.A… you need to start making sense."

"You gotta remember," B.A's voice sounded distant, as if he had drifted far away but Face didn't hear him move at all. The lieutenant lifted his head to reassure himself that he was just confused, disorientated from stress and exhaustion. But B.A was gone, up and vanished like a puff of smoke.

"What the…" Face spun trying to spot where the guy had gone. He was too big to move away without a sound, and too big to hide as effectively as he was now.

"Who where you talking too?" A small voice asked but it was unexpected and the lieutenant was reaching for his side arm in that second. He tried to still his breathing and calm his speeding heart as he glared down the sights at the girl, Helena.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He demanded, sounding breathless and panicked.

"I came to help you." She stated calmly, despite having a gun aimed at her head. Face frowned and looked behind her, seeing one of the older boys was with her. "_We_ came to help you."

"I don't need…"

"Who where you talking too?" She asked again, cutting off his inevitable refusal.

"My friend, B.A." Face slowly lowered the weapon and looked around, trying to work out how B.A had vanished. "He was just here…"

"There was no one. Only you." Helena slipped under the canopy approaching the confused man, her large brown eyes seeking his.

"That's impossible; I was just talking to him."

"I do not lie, there was only you, only your voice." Helena looked around the base camp warily and for the first time since he arrived in this place, things were starting to make sense.

Face slowly dropped to sit on the floor, staring off as he thought back to the first day of their…_his_ arrival here.

He had done everything to push this mission forward.

He had done the reconnaissance.

He had set up the camp, he had done everything, and he had even come up with the plan. Hannibal, Murdock, B.A; they weren't actually with him.

He had been alone the whole time. The conversations with his team mates had all been in his head.

How was that even possible?

_"__It's completely possible, Facey."_ Face sat up straight as he heard Murdock speak from an indiscernible location. _"I hear and see things that aren't ther,e all the time."_ The disembodied voice of his best friend stated quite happily.

"So, I'm crazy?" Face asked aloud earning a confused look from Helena who was still poking around the camp.

"I don't know what you are." Helena answered Face's question, not realising that the lieutenant's confused and damaged mind was attempting to answer it for him.

_"__You're not crazy, muchacho, you know that."_

With a strained sigh, Face got back to his feet and left the meagre shelter of the canopy, stripping off his jacket and shirt and making straight for the largest tree he could find. He bashed some of the large green leafs above him and stood ready as a steady stream of water assailed his face and body. It was cold, but he needed the shock. It was all too weird and it was still too much for his addled mind to process all at once. He needed this distraction.

The flow of water gradually slowed, so he moved to the next lot of branches and done the same, earning another soaking but by now, most of the mud and grime had been washed away, leaving only his pale; bruise speckled skin in its place. He felt cleaner, but he also felt calm once again and he hunched down, looking at his now clean hands.

Their voices weren't real. He knew that, but as he thought back over every 'conversation' with the phantoms his mind had concocted, the same phrases kept popping up.

_You know._

Each one, Hannibal, B.A and now Murdock, they all said that he would _know._

Know what?!

With no small amount of frustration, Face pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes, hard.

_"__Take it easy, Faceguy," _Murdock's voice returned, it sounded different, distant, like had right before he vanished, so when the lieutenant actually looked up, it was a surprise to 'see' Murdock standing there.

"If I'm not crazy, why am I hearing, and seeing someone who isn't even here?" Face paused and laughed a little at what he had also just realised. "I'm even speaking to you. I mean, that's your thing! You're the one who does this stuff!" Face paused briefly to glance back towards base camp, where Helena and the boy continued to nose around. He was some distance away, so he felt sure they couldn't hear or see him ramble on to people who weren't technically real.

_"__Does this mean I get to be you again? Because that was fun, E.G was really…"_

"Murdock!"

_"__Don't blame me; I'm just behaving the way you think I behave."_ Murdock sat himself down, crossing his legs and shifting to get comfortable. _"I'm a figment of your mind, remember?"_

"What the hell is wrong with me…" Face whined as he put his aching head in his hands.

_"__You've been thinking too much about what needs to be done, buddie. You're mind's been consumed with, pushing forward, driving you on towards a goal but you've forgotten why..."_

"What?" Face asked with no small amount of exasperation.

_"__Think back, you know what happened, you know why."_

"I don't know what you're talking about."

_"__Of course you do, if I know, you know because I'm a projection of your thoughts!"_

"So, just tell me!"

_"__The boat, Face."_

"The boat?" He sniggered and shook his head, prepared to dismiss the ramblings of Murdock as just that, ramblings. But then something happened. Instinctively his hand went to the back of his head, where the large bump still remained, though it had shrunk substantially. "T-the boat." He repeated and closed his eyes as the events of the teams arrival, finally came back to him.


	6. Chapter 6

All hell had broken loose; the guards responsible for their capture had gone from complacent, to pro-active with supreme prejudice. It was a sight to behold and so Hannibal was beholding it. He smirked out at the frantic men, his cigar down to the last few inches but that wasn't enough to dampen his mood. The scene before him was just too amusing.

"Something wrong, fellas?" He asked as a passing patrol sped by, ignoring the taunting way in which the colonel made his query and so Hannibal just stepped away from the barred window and faced his fellow prisoners once more.

The tribes people didn't completely understand what was going on, only a handful understood the very basic English that they had learned from Dr Jackson, which made communication difficult but not impossible. B.A and Murdock were also with him and like Hannibal, had been broken upon their arrival at the prison camp. For the first time in forty-eight hours though, the light of hope shone in all of their eyes, especially Murdock's.

"I told you guys, didn't I keep telling you guys!?" The pilot jumped up from where he had been seated and started slapping B.A's shoulder hard, but the burly sergeant didn't object, if anything a large smile replaced the usual stoic expression.

"Yeah, you did Murdock." Hannibal said as he moved to join his two team mates.

"Man, the guy's more slippery than a fish, but I ain't complaining this time." B.A nodded and put an affectionate arm around Murdock and squeezed, making the pilot squeak in discomfort, but it was enough of a warning to get Murdock to quit jumping around. B.A's patience was finite after all.

"Okay, okay big-guy!" Murdock gasped as the squeezing continued but he managed to wriggle free and stood slightly apart, straightening up his ruffled fatigues, which were dirty from all the hours working in the mine. "So what now colonel, do you think your plan will still work?"

Hannibal smiled and lit up the last portion of his cigar. "Oh yeah, it'll work even better now Face has these guys jumping at shadows." He drew from the cigar and continued, dropping the used match to his feet. "We'll coordinate our escape with Face's next attack, the kids doing well but he's gonna need some back-up."

"What about the tribes people?" B.A asked looking around their prison and the men and women sat huddled against the walls, fearful of all the gun fire and shouting. "We can't risk them being hurt and leaving those kids without their parents."

"I'll get the chief to explain to his people, that as soon as we get out of here, they run and hide some place safe. We'll cover their escape."

"With what!? Harsh language!?" B.A sneered thinking he had found a hole in the colonels plan.

"I like that, but I think we'll need something with a little more kick. Guns. Their own guns." Hannibal grinned as he lifted the cigar back to his lips.

"Face will help with that." Murdock clarified with a big smile. "Man, I told you guys he was alive. I told you there was no way some idd-biddy explosion would keep him down." Murdock's joy was infectious, even B.A smiled again as the pilot done a happy little dance right there on the spot, but he had the sense to keep the sergeant out of it this time.

"Okay, captain, I know you're relieved, we all are. But lets stay focused. We're not out of this yet."

"Roger-wilco, colonel." Murdock nodded and was doing his best to keep still, and while his hands sunk into his pockets and his torso remained fixed, his feet continued to shuffle. "When do you think Face will attack again?"

Hannibal checked his watch, it had only just gone midnight and the guards were still on high alert and had yet to find any trace of the sniper. While great in number, they were not professional and it showed. Most of the men drank their guard duty away, while others sauntered away to gamble and slack off. It was a pathetic excuse for a troop and if they had been under Hannibal's command, the white haired colonel would have put them through their paces until he was satisfied they were capable of guarding a dog at least.

"If he follows his training, and I know he will, we've got three, maybe four hours to prepare." The colonel looked to B.A who was waving Hannibal to a nearby window, this one over-looked the open area and Coleman's office directly across it.

"Two more," B.A said as he watched the guards drag in two more bodies, both of which had been butchered with a blade. It was a grisly sight, one they were used too and could just about stomach. "Face ain't takin prisoners."

"It's not like he has a lot of options, B.A." Hannibal pointed out but B.A just shook his head.

"Don't get me wrong, Hannibal. I'm not judgin'. After what those fools done to them kids, I wouldn't have been as kind." B.A moved from the window, his jaw set and tense. "I'm worried about Face. When we got home, he was the one. He was the one who insisted the most, that he was done killin'. We all chalked up our own number of dead, we all killed. Face chalked up more than his fair share. Everyone said he was lucky. Lucky he was so fast and so good with that rifle. Face never saw it that way. He said he was cursed, cursed by God for going off to war, to sin against his fellow men. I don't know if he still sees it that way, he had to much damn whiskey that night by that river in 'Nam, but he meant what he said then, and I don't wanna see him like that ever! Once was enough."

Both Hannibal and Murdock were stunned into silence. It wasn't often B.A spoke so passionately about anything and this went right up there with the most B.A had said in one sitting, ever. Despite the sergeants gruff tone and aggressive stance, it was clear to them both just how concerned he was for his friend. They all were.

"Get some sleep, guys." Hannibal said after the silence stretched on, becoming uncomfortable. "Boots on, I'll wake you if anything happens." Both men nodded and moved to find a comfortable spot.


	7. Chapter 7

How had he forgotten?

How could he forget that he had almost been blown up, during the assault on the boat they arrived on? And that when he came too a mile or so downstream, that the rest of the team had been taken? It seemed so unlikely yet, it happened. Still he was glad that somehow, in his state of confusion, he had managed stay on course. The drive to protect his friends was too strong to ignore and while the wiring in his mind had become scrambled, he had not lost that particular instinct completely. The vision of his team mates still with him, pushing him on must have been a part of that buried memory, struggling to emerge.

Face sat, resting against the tree he had used as an impromptu shower. With his left knee raised, arm resting limply upon it; he closed his eyes as his memory returned.

The attack was so vivid in his mind that for a moment he thought he was back there and his body reacted, as if to flee. Helena jumped back, having stooped to examine the white man. The teen fell to the damp ground, glaring back at him accusingly, as if he had planned to shock her. He shot her an apologetic smile and shrugged before relaxing once more.

"Sorry, kid."

"I told you, I am not a child!" She spat back angrily and got to her feet. "What are you even doing? Why are you simply sat there, our parents are still prisoners of those monsters."

"I'm working on it." He snarled back, his tired blue eyes flashing a warning and an anger he rarely showed. He closed his eyes briefly and mentally counted to ten. "Believe it or not, this is all part of the plan."

"You expect me to believe, this is all planned by you?"

"How did you find me, anyway?" He asked suddenly, wondering if Helena was even real. Considering he had spent the last few days conversing with a make believe A-Team, he figured he was right to question himself.

"We followed you, it was not difficult."

"Don't lie." He sniggered and slowly got to his feet.

"Alright. It was difficult." The girl conceded. Face lifted a single brow, still sceptical. "Very difficult." She mumbled before recovering her previous defiant demeanour. "What is your plan?" Face shook his head and started to walk away, recovering his shirt from the floor before heading back to base camp. "Tell me!"

"I've spent enough time talking to phantoms, I'm not doing it anymore." He stated as he slipped back under the canopy, followed by the girl. The other boy who had accompanied Helena suddenly stepped back, his mouth covered in what remained of the chocolate bar he had found and subsequently devoured.

"What do you mean by that?" Helena demanded, spotting the state of the boy, her eyes growing wide with envy while her stomach growled loudly. She quickly covered her midsection with a gentle right hand.

Face studied the pair.

"You guys hungry?" He asked and Helena at least nodded, the boy doing the same when she mumbled a few words Face didn't understand, but he had a fair idea what she was saying. "Alright." The lieutenant opened his pack, the only pack in the camp and he was again, wondering why he hadn't noticed these things before. Had the knock to his head been so bad as to cause him to live in a reality created by his mind?

He rooted around the pack, noticing more and more evidence. The pack was fit to burst because he had gathered as much of the teams supplies as he could, and carted it across miles and miles of jungle. It held rations, ammo, the guy's side arms and as much ordinance as he could carry. He sighed and pulled out two packets of MRE's, tore each one open before holding it out to the kids and held his breath. One by one their little hands reached forward and took the packets from the lieutenant who sighed with some relief.

They were real.

Face sat down slowly as the kids dung into the sandwiches, Helena stopping briefly to breathe and also thank the white man. He simply nodded and smiled.

* * *

><p>"I am not sure if you are being serious." Helena stated in a tone far older than her years and Face had to work hard to suppress a laugh. He didn't think the girl would appreciate the fact that he found her seriousness so amusing, especially considering she doubted the plan and called into question his sanity. He found it hard to disagree with her on the later part, considering the some what surreal forty-eight hours he had endured. "Do you honestly expect this plan to work?"<p>

"They usually do." Face stated with a wry smile as he packed his backpack with everything they were going to need.

"You have performed miracles before?"

"We have actually."

"We?" Helena looked around. "You and your spirits?"

"Spirits?" Face asked curiously, pausing from his task momentarily.

"The ones you were conversing with when we arrived." Helena explained as she took a sip of the water that remained after the meal she and her brother, 'Harry' had eaten with gusto.

"Ah no, not them." He frowned and then quickly retracted. "Well, yes _them_ but, they're not spirits." It was clear by the look on the girls' face she wasn't following. "It's complicated, I'm not even sure I fully understand it."

"Are you crazy?"

"I hope not." Face said sincerely and Helena wore an expression of the worried kind. "What are you so worried about, I got you out didn't I?"

"That could have just been luck."

"Well pray our luck holds." He added with a grin and handed both of the kids a little packet. "Now, do you both know what you need to do?" Helena nodded and turned to ask her brother, who nodded also. "Now, what's the most important thing you need to do?"

"Run fast." Helena replied confidently.

"Run, fast." Harry repeated, recognising the phrase from the mission brief Face had provided a few minutes ago, making the lieutenant smile. It had been a tough decision to let the kids help, but Helena had made a good argument. He needed the help and was in no position to be picky. He had of course objected, but it seemed her understanding of the English language got a little sketchy when the conversation wasn't going her way. She was going to grow into a fine woman and make her suitor the happiest, unluckiest man in the tribe.

Face consoled himself with the fact that all they were doing was providing distractions. Each were armed with a dozen or so fire crackers on long fuses. All they had to do was plant the weak firework at the edge of the jungle, light it and run. The resulting cracks and flashes would mimic sniper fire, drawing the guards' attention to that part of the jungle. The fuses were a minute long, giving each kid a chance to vacate the area before they could be caught in any return fire. By the time the guards realised they were firing at thin air, the next lot of fireworks would go off, ensuring the panic and confusion continued.

The distraction caused by the firecrackers would give Face an opportunity to target specific members of the militia, namely the ones guarding the main body of prisoners. After seeing Hannibal the day before, he knew the rest of the guys had to be in that building also. If he could get them out, the rest would be easy and all the kids had to do then, was stay hidden.

"That's right. Run fast." He repeated and knelt down before them both. "And if you get scared, come back here, hide your trail and wait for me."

"I still think it is a bad idea, your whole plan rests on your friends being ready to fight."

"Oh, they'll be ready." Face said with a bright smile. "This is what we do."


	8. Chapter 8

Hannibal looked at his watch for the third time in two minutes. It was almost four and while it was still dark, the sky was beginning to lighten in the east. Coleman and his militia had been on high alert since the last attack and while there were still many actively patrolling the camp, a lot of them had retired to their bunks or found a quiet spot to slack off. With the arrival of the morning light, they seemed to think the worst was already over, little did they know, it was this display of complacency that would be their downfall.

The colonel felt sure Face's attack was imminent, which is why he had gently nudged B.A and Murdock to wake. It was that moment that the prison cell got an unexpected visitor.

Coleman entered with a two man entourage, both armed with Ar15's and dazzling smiles. Coleman carried a 58 Magnum, holstered under his left arm and while he wore a dark blue body-warmer, he didn't attempt to hide the piece. Hannibal smiled brightly at his old team mate, trying to disguise the contempt he actually felt for the guy. There was no way in hell, Hannibal was going to give this scum the satisfaction of knowing just how angry he was, not yet, not until he had his hands round the bastards neck at least.

While Coleman was older than Hannibal by only five years, the man had aged. The horrors of war had contributed to the lines on their faces but Coleman bore more leaving the white haired colonel wondering if additional guilt had contributed to Coleman's appearance.

With his dark brown hair and pale skin, the former lieutenant looked sickly and while he had also lost weight and much of the muscle he boasted in his younger days, he was still a considerable size.

Coleman stepped past the threshold of the cell, standing toe to toe with Hannibal and had the audacity to return the colonels smile, as if he were greeting an old friend. The team had been prisoners almost three days and yet this was the first time the pair had laid eyes on each other in almost twenty years.

"Sergeant, John Smith." Coleman said his voice rough, breath rancid with the stench of stale smoke, nicotine and whiskey.

"That's colonel," Hannibal corrected, seeing B.A move to slowly stand from where he had been laid. Murdock too stood, though remained close to the wall, within easy reach of the two goons. Hannibal could feel their tension, both men eager to take advantage of the situation and attempt to escape, but it was too soon.

"Are you sure?" Coleman asked, eyes glancing around the room and mentally making a note of where the other two members of the A-team where. "Last I heard, you were on the run from the army and US government for war crimes." The older man sniggered, turning to walk away from Hannibal, as if tempting the other man to make a move, giving him a back to aim for. But that wasn't Hannibal's style. "I guess it finally caught up with you, huh?"

Hannibal remained silent, his smile having faded a little especially when he could see the interest and concern in the eyes of his men.

"It took a while, but it finally caught up with you."

"What are you trying to imply, Dean?" Hannibal asked, using Coleman's first name, hoping to provoke a reaction, but the former lieutenant remained eerily calm.

"You can't take a pay-off and get off scot-free while the rest of your unit is dishonourably discharged."

Hannibal relit the remaining portion of his cigar and took a long draw, the action calming him but also giving him a little extra time to plan his response. Both Murdock and B.A shuffled uncomfortably, not completely understanding what was being implied, but it was clear they didn't like it.

"What?" Coleman examined each of their faces with a sly smile. "Didn't know your precious CO was corrupt?"

"You're a liar." B.A snarled angrily, his body tense as he used all of his willpower to remain where he was and not charge forward.

"I don't lie, not like your colonel. Why don't you tell them, John. Tell then what the money was for."

"It's not true!" B.A interjected but Hannibal held up a hand, urging for silence and stillness.

"Easy B.A," he soothed and let his hand fall back once he was sure the sergeant wasn't going to fly off the handle. "Of course it's not true, he just thinks it is." The colonel smiled and chomped on his cigar once more. "I took the money, but I handed it straight over to colonel Bradbury along with a full report. I listed every weapon you guys stole and sold. I was the whistle-blower, that's why I was never incriminated." Coleman's eyes narrowed angrily, but a wry smile curved his lips as he shook his head.

"So you sold out your team in the most cowardly way possible."

"I didn't sell out my team; I helped to bring scum to justice." Murdock and B.A were both smiling, especially since the look on Coleman's face could sour milk. They half expected the guy to explode, possibly attack but he remained where he was the very vision of poise and control, despite the anger burning in his dark eyes. "I know you killed Alan, the tribunal might have failed to pin that on you, but I know from experience, they're not always right." Hannibal's own eyes grew hard and cold, the loss of his friend had haunted him for a long time. He thought history had been repeated three days prior when he witnessed another friend left for dead at the river and while he knew Face was alive and well, it done little to improve the colonels mood. Coleman was going down this time.

"Who is killing my men, _colonel_?" Coleman asked, the spoken rank spit out like a bad taste. "And where can I find him?"

"Well I can tell you _who_ it is, but I don't know _where_. The last time I seen Face…"

"Face?"

"Lieutenant Peck." Hannibal clarified as he removed the cigar and continued. "As I was saying, the last time I seen Face was back at the boat, the one your men blew up."

"He was killed." Coleman said through clenched teeth as he turned to fix one of his men with an icy glare.

"Apparently not." Hannibal said with a chuckle. "I don't know where he is, as you know we've been your…guests for the last three days." Coleman no longer seemed interested and looked ready to beat the life from the guard he was still glaring at. The murderous thoughts were quickly replaced by ones of surprise as all hell seemed to break loose outside.

From the fringes of the jungle the distinctive crack of gunfire echoed, sending the unprepared militia into a panic. The two guarding the prison turned in fright and shaking too much to return fire, leaving their leader for the moment unguarded. Hannibal wasted no time, grabbing hold of the former lieutenant and thumping him hard in the nose. The single powerful punch was enough to knock the slime on his back and he lay there bleeding. The colonel was tempted to inflict additional harm, but right now they had a small army to bring to its knees. An untrained, undisciplined army, but an army none-the-less.

Murdock and B.A had incapacitated the two guards and recovered the weapons to use themselves, while Hannibal relieved Coleman of the lovely 58. Armed and free to unleash their own style of justice, the trio filed out into the muddy yard. Hannibal and B.A found cover and laid down surpressing-fire, while Murdock shouted urgently for the native prisoners to leave the prison and ushered them towards the safety of the jungle.

The guards were scattered, the ones who had been paying attention had locked their sights at a location within the tree line. Hannibal could see the brief flashes that accompanied the cracks, but there was something odd about them. He wasn't about to look a gift distraction in the mouth however and quickly fired on the three guards currently spraying the location. Each round hit its mark, clipping two legs and a shoulder. The men fell like dominoes, fear rather than the severity of their injuries doing most of the incapacitation and if the situation wasn't so dire, Hannibal might have laughed himself into a stupor. Clearly the men were terrified that they had been hit by the sniper that had killed their comrades and they fell back in dramatic fashion, holding their bleeding holes, praying to God that they could see their mothers one last time. What the hell. He had to laugh now.

B.A had done the same to another group who had exited the nearby barracks while Murdock had somehow climbed on top of the prison roof and was picking off the stragglers and the ones that had the sense to find cover. With the pilot on the high ground and Face stalking the edges of the jungle, there weren't many places to hide.

Another set of gunfire sounded from the jungle, ticking away like it had done before only this time it came from the opposite side. There was no way Face could have covered that much ground that quickly and suddenly Hannibal understood.

"B.A!" the colonel shouted across at the sergeant who ceased fire briefly so they could communicate. "I love the smell of fire-crackers in the morning!" the colonel shot the muscle man a large smile.

"Alright!" B.A declared and started to go on the offensive once more, understanding Hannibal's statement loud and clear. Murdock too heard and acknowledged that the message had been received by making a high pitched call that he warbled out like some kind of jungle bird.

Slowly the trio fanned out, incapacitating the guards one by one in a coordinated effort while the fire-work distraction left the scattered men believing there was a whole troop in the jungle closing in on them.

"Nice, Face! Nice!" Hannibal said to himself as he shot another runner in the leg.


	9. Chapter 9

With the fight below in full swing, Hannibal and the guys free and many of the guards down, Face shouldered the rifle that had served him so well, before making sure his side arm was fully loaded and ready to go. He had the guys' pieces in his pack as well as ammunition and grenades, but now he needed to reunite the team with their equipment. While the guys had a plentiful supply of enemy weapons to pick through, he didn't want them having to rely on them. As the teams supply officer, it was his responsibility to ensure the team had reliable weapons and this was one delivery that was getting through no matter what.

The plan was working perfectly and as expected, the rest of the team had been more than ready and Face wondered briefly if there would be some comments about him making them wait. He hoped not since he hadn't quite figured out how to explain the lengthy delay, after all, for the first two days he was convinced they were all together in this rescue.

The lieutenant broke into the clearing, opening fire on a nearby guard, hitting him square in the shoulder. The guy fell with a scream and clutched the wound dramatically.

"Just be glad I got you today and not yesterday." Face snarled sarcastically as he stepped over the writhing man.

The prison building was directly in front of him and the way was mostly clear but he clung to cover. The guys had spread out, going in different directions pushing out from the middle cutting off the scattered militia and shooting to injure those still armed. The fire-crackers were still being set off and that helped to confuse matters even more for the remaining militia, since to them it seemed like the entire jungle was full of troops ready to kill them. Some of the slime where even knelt with their hands up in surrender and Face felt no guilt as he used his pistol to knock one out, not trusting any of them not to shoot once his back was turned.

B.A was the first of the team he had a clear run to and the lieutenant felt his heart race as a frightening thought occurred to him. Was any of this real or was his imagining it all again? He had been completely convinced a day ago that B.A was stood before him, but he wasn't. He had been convinced that the conversations he'd had with each of his friends had been real, but they weren't.

With a deep breath, Face knew there was only one way to be completely sure and so he started towards the teams mechanic who was pinned by two other men and it seemed the weapon he had, was jammed. The distinctive jarring sound the weapon made confirming Face's assumption but before B.A could risk his life to retrieve another weapon which may or may not have been loaded, Face whistled loudly from the cover of a building.

"Yo, B.A!" He called as his friend turned, keeping low to avoid being shot. Face grinned at his friend who smiled back, clearly happy to see him and the lieutenant reached for a little surprise. Face removed the pin from the grenade and threw the explosive device so it landed right in front of the two men who had B.A pinned down. Their faces paled as they realised what they were looking at and both quickly ran for cover, barely escaping the blast.

"Well it's about time!" B.A growled as Face quickly joined him behind the water drums leaving the lieutenant wishing B.A was make-believe.

"I'll be happy to take all of your complaints on board later," he shouted to be heard as he reached into the pack and quickly handed B.A his 9mm and plenty of clips as well a couple of grenades. He was about to up and run on to Murdock who he could see on a nearby roof when he spotted another two guards, scaling the wall to ambush the pilot. Without needing to think, Face was arming himself with the rifle once more and fired off two successive shots, hitting each man in the shoulder. The sudden flurry of activity was enough to get Murdock to turn, aiming his own AR15 ready to defend himself but as he looked at his feet, the captain realised someone else was watching his back.

Face rose to his feet as B.A laid down cover fire and the lieutenant made it to the prison building unhindered. He had Murdock's pistol and plenty of clips and was about to sling them up and onto the roof when Murdock's face appeared hanging over the edge.

"Face!" Murdock exclaimed with a huge smile, reaching over to clasp the back of the lieutenants head. Face returned the smile and found himself holding the arm of his friend, squeezing it fondly, mirroring what Murdock was doing to his neck. "It's about damn time!" Murdock shot down to him before laughing loudly, his brown eyes misty but Face just rolled his own before handing Murdock the supplies.

"Complain later!" He snapped back with no hint of malice. Like Murdock he was just happy. The physical contact was so comforting, it made it real for him, chased away any lingering doubts in his mind that this was some kind of hallucination.

"Look out!" Murdock warned suddenly and was quickly aiming his pistol, firing off a few rounds till Face had a chance to take cover around the other side of the building. He checked that Murdock had the situation back under control before he started off in the direction he had last seen Hannibal. The colonel had made it all the way to what had been the children's cell and had cut down most of the militia that were focusing their fire on the jungle. Face was glad at least one of the guys had done that, since it made it less likely Helena or her brother would be hurt. The fact the fire-crackers were still going off at different points in the jungle every few minutes meant the kids were still at large, which meant they were unhurt.

He had almost made it to the colonel when something bulky charged into him from behind. Face was tumbling towards the ground, dropping both the pack and his rifle as he and the one responsible for the tackle rolled to a stop. Stunned from the initial blow, it took Face a little time to process his new situation. Pinned below a much heavier-set man, the lieutenant barely had enough time to defend himself against an impending beating. The much older man fired off a number of blows, each one raining down with the force of a high speed truck. He raised his arms in a feeble attempt to defend himself while his legs kicked out but with the larger man straddling his waist, the motion was futile.

The lieutenant finally managed to trap one of the guy's arms as it careered towards his already bruised and bloody face, before throwing back one of his own punches. A solid right hook connected with the guys jaw, stunning him long enough so the younger man could retaliate some more. The second blow was enough to knock the bastard off balance. With the pressure now off his legs, Face was able to buck, shoving his assailant off and he followed through, both men once again rolling through the dirt vying for top spot. Despite the lieutenant's best efforts the sheer difference in size and weight meant he was once again pinned and this time the attack rained down with more fury than the previous spat.

Face's head snapped quickly to the right with the force of the first impact and bright spots of light danced before his eyes. One more shot like that and Face knew he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon, if at all. His strength had left him and no matter how hard he tried to fight back, his own punches were nothing for his opponent to be concerned with. The younger man groaned as he tried to prepare his body for the next punch but his expectations were (thankfully) not met. Instead of a finishing blow, all Face felt was the pressure from his chest lift as his attacker was tackled to the ground beside him. Face blinked rapidly trying to see who was responsible for the save, but the spots still danced, obstructing his vision.

The two men rolled in the dirt in a green and black blur, while Face shuffled away, shaking his head in an attempt to clear not only his vision but his head. Blood oozed from the inside of his mouth, the metallic taste making him feel a little nauseas so he quickly spat it out, hoping to ease the worry in his stomach.

It seemed to take forever for the dazed lieutenant's senses to rally once more and he frowned at the scene before him.

Hannibal had been the one to come to Face's rescue and the older man was currently beating the stuffing out of the guy who had jumped Face. The colonel always had his own style when it came to delivering beatings. He wasn't the strongest, or the fastest, but he had timing and he knew exactly where to hit the body to get the best reaction. Right now Hannibal was working the body. There was a one-two-three count impacting the guy's solar-plexus and Face winced in sympathy as the subject of Hannibal's beating doubled over, only to take a knee, twice to the face. He might have toppled backwards but Hannibal grabbed him by the collar and held him steady while he continued to work the body, targeting the kidneys this time. Another powerful combination there before the colonel spun the guy around and sent a couple of right jabs into the guys chest, before finishing off with a left cross to the face.

Face had never seen the colonel this enraged. Sure he had seen him angry before and had even heard about it from the other guys, but this was something more. As the unknown older man finally hit the floor, Hannibal leered over him, his gloved hands loose by his sides, but coated with blood. He seemed so unlike the man Face had come to know and love, his pale blue eyes cold and unforgiving as they locked on the man at his feet. For a worrying moment, Face thought the colonel was going to do the unthinkable.

"C-colonel!" Face called as he struggled to get to his feet, once up he felt off-balance and took a step backwards before he righted himself and made for his friend. Hannibal hadn't taken his eyes off the man, not until Face gently took the colonel's arm, finally pulling Hannibal back from what-ever dark place his mind had taken him too. "Hannibal, he's done." Face instructed softly.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hannibal finally met his lieutenants eyes. Face sighed, relieved when he could finally recognise his friend again.

"Face," Hannibal began, a smile slowly brightening up what had been a very dark expression. "It's…"

"I know, I know." Face rolled his eyes. "About time."

"It's good to have you back, kid." The colonel corrected, catching the lieutenant off guard. Face just shook his still ringing head, as the colonel placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, before pulling the younger man in for an unexpected hug. Face was too tired and far too happy to resist and simply surrendered himself to the colonel's unusual display of affection and returned the gesture with a couple of weak slaps to Hannibal's back. "You had us worried." The colonel admitted as they parted, though his hand still remained on his young friend.

"Yeah, well, I worried myself." Hannibal's smile grew a margin before he seemed to look the younger man over; assessing the damage he'd taken during the beating. "I'm fine." The lieutenant assured and glanced around. Some where along the line all the fighting had stopped and to their surprise, the reason why was very humbling.

The natives who had been prisoners had returned, with their own weapons and were now gathering up the injured militia men. Most went willingly, resigned to their fate, while others seemed absolutely terrified.

"Are they gonna kill these men?" Face asked a little worried.

"I don't know, it's their call." Hannibal shrugged nonchalantly, not sharing his young lieutenants concern and stepped back as a trio of native men, all armed with sharpened rocks and sticks gathered the fallen man at their feet, who by now had come too and fixed Hannibal with an icy glare, his smile missing a few teeth and surrounded by blood.

"You're not gonna let them kill us, John. You're too goody-goody for that."

"You don't know me very well, do you Dean?" Hannibal replied coldly and Face watched as Coleman was gradually led away by the native men.

"I'll pay you!" Coleman pleaded desperately once he realised Hannibal was indeed prepared to stand by and let it happen.

"I wish I could," Hannibal shouted back with a wicked smile. "I'm restricted by what's commonly known in the business as, 'A Conflict of Interest'." With a customary thumbs up, the colonel turned from the scene, his smile growing the more Coleman screamed his anger at their backs.

Face wasn't sure how he felt about the situation and looked back with some concern. Could he just walk away, when doing so would be the same result as pulling the trigger?

"Lieutenant," the younger man turned to look at his CO who called to him once he realised Face had stopped following. "This is on me, do you understand? Walk away." Face swallowed and nodded, choosing to follow the order.


End file.
